Dawn of Battle
by BookSurgeon
Summary: While mankind celebrates the end of the Human-Covenant war, one mysterious man in a London pub tells his story, of personal heroism and sacrifice, a testament to what we all have lost. DISCONTINUED! CHECK OUT MY PAGE FOR MY BEST STORY


**Important! I promised a theme song, so here it is!** **Check out the accompanying theme song to Dawn of Battle at:** **scores/view/611c72849db4852e82c4f9dd88504504ba7feaa0 (replace a . )**

 **Case Notes: Hi Readers! I know this is the same night I uploaded my major AN for my story Crash. I will keep you all updated as I go through with that story. Anyway, I needed to take a step back from that story to give myself some time to edit some chapters as well as see where it will progress. I have had this idea since I started writing, however, and wanted to bring it to life. So, without any more waste of time, here is Dawn of Battle! (Sidenote, Rate and Review please! Anything at all helps keep me writing and improving my stories!)**

 **Rated M for Language, and eventual Violence, Gore, and whatever else comes of this.**

 **Legality: I Do Not own Halo or any of the Halo characters/events! All that is retained by me are the OCs and storyline itself.**

 **London, Earth**

 **21:43 - December 21, 2552**

 **Captain Joel Castle**

 **105** **th** **ODST Division, 7** **th** **Shock Troops Battalion**

The invasion was finally over. For a few short days, humanity has experienced life without the imminent threat of annihilation by the Covenant. As such, the pubs and bars throughout the city of London were brimming with customers from all walks of life. Men and women, whose differences were all put aside for the sake of surviving the brink of extinction together. As drinks were tipped back across the city and the world, one pub held a man. This man sat idly with weary eyes and a tired demeanor, despite the excitement of those celebrating around him. His brown hair tousled, hazel-green eyes dull as he watched those around him give another toast to a UNSC marine that had just walked inside.

As the man, a Corporal by the looks of him, walked up to the bar, accepting a on-the-house drink with the widest smile, the man at the corner table simply watched, his eyes beginning to water at the sight. It was then that one of the other bar goers noticed him on his own and decided to walk over. Yet, the man still sat, watching the marine, at least until the patron noticed his own UNSC BDU, eyes widening.

"You fought in the war? Oh my God you saved all our lives!" He quickly turned raising his glass, and the man sitting finally turned, knowing what was next, "Everyone! Let's hear it for another brave marine! Here's to life!"

Before the rest of the bar could fully cheer for him, the man stood up with a start, "NO!"

It seemed like the Earth was standing still. Only the electronic music could be softly heard, everyone else had stopped, startled by the outburst. "You all do NOT get to revel in this… this victory! Not when you've all been sitting here on your asses for YEARS while good men and women went out and gave their lives to protect you sorry asses! I've been in this bar for hours, and no one seems to give a rat's ass about the ones we've lost, all you do is toast and cheer that you sorry shits get to live another day!" He pointed at them all harshly before sitting down at his small booth. "I've been a part of this war since the beginning, since way back in '25 when the Insurrection was still an issue! So, I suggest, if you want to celebrate, you at least have to indulge me and listen to all that my friends… no, my _family_ … have given up so you all could be here today, drinking your lives away…"

At first people were too shocked to do anything at all. Most simply stared at the man before them, mouths agape, shocked. Some looked into their drinks, ashamed, that is until one of the bargoers pulled over a stool and sat, slowly, in front of the man. One by one, everyone gathered around the trooper, even the barkeep stopped what he was doing to look over and listen to what he would have to say.

"Well I guess my little rant didn't fall on deaf ears. So… listen up everyone, let me tell you about the war." He stated, matter-of-factly.

Before he could catch a breath and start, a woman spoke up from the back of his 'audience', "But who are you?"

"Miss, I'm Captain Joel Castle, ODST"

 **ODST Training Facility – Classified Location, Reach**

 **10:24 – April 4, 2524**

 **Private Joel Castle**

 **Previously 4** **th** **Battalion, 12** **th** **Marines**

Private Castle jumped down from the ramp of the recently landed Pelican, his drab combat boots clacking against the rough concrete of the pad. He and a line of other Marines and Army troopers had finally reached their destination, a discreet facility on Reach with no name, but where vicious killing machines are born. This is the ODST training facility. Candidates, like Joel, apply and are hand picked from their respective branches for exemplary service records and capable strength to survive such rigorous, dangerous missions (as well as a reasonable amount of insanity, to fall from upper atmosphere in a thin titanium capsule).

As he walked in line with his comrades to the main complex to receive their orders, he thought back on what special kind of crazy willed him to be a Helljumper. As a Marine, he was exceptional, always thinking ahead, never letting fatigue show. While he wasn't a great marksman with long-rifles like the DMR, give him an MA5 or M7 and he would rock somebody's world. His main claim to the hallowed position as an ODST though was his role in a prolonged firefight with the Insurrection. While under fire, he not only effectively ended an innie squad single-handedly, forcing a retreat, but found himself dragging wounded Marines into cover to be treated by corpsmen.

This act of valor and skill did not go unnoticed by his superiors, but rather than promote him, they suggested the ODSTs, whom they said would be a perfect fit for such a soldier. As he walked across the open terrain of the base, he couldn't help but notice the platoons of trainees running obstacle courses, or in one particular instance crawling (or more accurately swimming) through thick mud under barbed wire. With live rounds flying overhead.

Stepping through the threshold of the command structure, he grinned and shook his head, preparing himself for the challenge of the next four months. As he thought, however, he neglected the fact that he was next in line, and waited too long for the supply officer's liking. "Get your sorry ass up here recruit! I don't have all day to wait for you, dumbass! What's your name, Private Dumbass?!"

"Sir, Castle, Sir!" He recited, stepping up to the table, coming to attention in front of the officer in his rehearsed style. With a scowl, the officer pulled a large duffel from shelves behind him.

"Well, Private Dumbass! Here's your initial pack of gear! Don't lose anything, I don't want to waste more resources on a boot like you! Now get over to the Sergeant Major through those doors! Don't be such a screw up with him, recruit! He won't be so kind!"

With a start, Joel hurried up behind the other recruits, all with their own UNSC branded duffels. He was not so quick to repeat his mistake this time though as he quickly made his way up to the soldier as soon as he was ready. "Private Joel Castle reporting, Sergeant!" he said, standing at attention yet again as he waited for his bunk assignment.

"Private! Barracks 19, Room 2B! Now get a move on soldier! Don't want to miss your lunch before the real hell begins!" The Sergeant Major grinned at the young Private.

"Yes Sergeant!" With that last affirmation, he jogged out the back of the command building, looking for barracks 19. The twenty-year-old Marine struggled finding the right building, but finding it after a quick 'tour' of all the barracks, he hustled in and dropped his pack on an open bunk before booking it to the mess. The last thing he wanted to do was miss his last opportunity at a calm meal.

Walking in and stepping into the mess line, he looked around to scout for a place to sit, before noticing that the tables had been marked with what looked like their room assignments. He flagged his table's location in his mind before he helped himself to a ready tray of what could pass as a meat loaf with potatoes and assorted veggies. With his grade-A chow in hand, he turned to get to his table, seeing three other recruits already there.

Setting down his tray on the metal table with a soft _clang,_ he looked up and around to see the other three men staring at him, before finally the shortest of the bunch piped up, "There you are! I thought we'd be lucky enough not to have a fourth roomie, but looks like that theory's out the window!" He joked, with a slight hint at an Italian-American accent. "I'm Rick Conti, PFC from the Army. Big guy next to me is Danny O'Connell, Private from the Marines" He thumbed in the direction of a red-haired giant, who looked to be at least 6'4. "And finally, this wise guy here is Charles Ibori, a lofty Lance Corporal from the Army, like me" his finger pointed at a darker-skinned man, his last name suggesting heritage from Africa, with very short cropped hair.

"Well, good to meet all of you. I'm Private Joel Castle, Marines. You all better not snore though, or I'm kicking some ass." Castle joked right back, getting a chorus of laughs from his newfound friends.

After a good fifteen minutes of peace, however, all hell broke loose, with trainers pouring in from every door in their ODST PT gear, banging nightsticks on the metal walls and shouting at the recruits to "get their asses in gear and out to the parade grounds". Having basically finished their meals, the guys from room 2A hopped up, and ran to change into their own PT uniforms.

It had officially begun.

 **Case Notes: What do you all think so far? Let me know! I now it's a bit of a short chapter, but meat and potatoes start next chapter. Hope to see you all again.**


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